


Without Your Touch

by LotusDefender



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types, Assassin's Creed Syndicate - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Cuddling, Cuddling & Snuggling, Evie is referenced, Fluff, M/M, Touch-Starved, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, cuddling under a blanket, self destructive behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-22 01:52:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15571125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LotusDefender/pseuds/LotusDefender
Summary: Ned is out of town for the week, and Jacob is handling it- poorly, that is. Desperate for any form of physical contact, Jacob heads off to the nearest fight club. When Ned returns to find him injured, he is less than pleased. Cuddling ensues.





	Without Your Touch

Ned had been gone for a week.

It was necessary, Jacob reminded himself for the hundredth time since Ned had walked out the door. This was simply part of running a criminal empire. The town Ned was visiting was a major part of his smuggling business, a place where several routes merged into one before entering London. All evidence pointed to someone cooking the books, someone high level, so of course Ned had to investigate it.

Without Jacob.

For a week.

And, really, how long was a week? Just seven days. Six of which had already passed, so, there was only one day to go. Twenty-four hours, and Ned would be back, and everything would be fine. Twenty-four hours.

“I wonder how many minutes are in twenty-four hours,” Jacob mumbled into the cushions of the couch. Ned had a very nice couch. Soft. And it smelled like him…

Jacob paused mid inhale as he took stock of his situation. He was a day away from his boyfriend’s return, and passing time by flopping about Ned’s apartment and _smelling his couch_. He idly imagined Evie walking in on him in such a state, and jerked upright.

This was embarrassing. He was an _assassin_ for goodness’ sake, there had to be something worth his time. Except, a voice inside his mind that sounded suspiciously like Evie, he had spent the last six days distracting himself using the same logic. Frederick had no more criminals in need of capture, Henry had no targets for him, and the only factories Clara directed him to were in parts of the city he and Evie had held off on dealing with for now.

Ned had left information on various shipments to steal or steal back, but Jacob had already taken care of everything in his notes.

Jacob flopped down onto the couch. Twenty-four hours until Ned returned. He needed to be distracted. He needed something to do. He needed…

He needed to be touched.

It had been, to his dismay, about a week since someone had touched him. Light punches and the occasional bump of shoulders from his Rooks was the closest he had come to any form of extended physical contact since Ned had hugged him and walked out the door six. Entire. Days ago.

Jacob didn’t know how to explain the sensation other than his skin felt _hungry_. For a moment, he considered going to Evie, before choking on laughter. Going to Evie for cuddles would be as ridiculous as, as going to _father_. She would have thought him mad, or laughed him out of the train. Greenie and the rest of his contacts were out the window—the thought was ridiculous—and the mere idea of embarrassing himself in front of his Rooks by asking for a _hug_ was mortifying.

The only person he could go to was Ned. And Ned wasn’t here.

A terrible thought popped into his mind before he could toss it away: he could always _buy_ comfort.

No. No. No. He wasn’t cheating on Ned, he wasn’t ruining the one good thing in his life over this nonsense desire to be touched. If he needed contact with other people, there was one other way. Jacob stood and pulled open the nearest window, entering the slight chill of the night air.

One of Robert Topping’s fight clubs wasn’t too far from Ned’s apartment. He could distract himself perfectly fine with a few rounds in the ring.

 

 

 

When Ned opened the door to his apartment, a little after breakfast, after traveling all through the night, he had to take a moment to absorb the scene before him.

Jacob Frye was in his apartment. Not unusual. Jacob Frye was not wearing a shirt. Also not… entirely unusual. Jacob Frye, in his apartment, shirtless, covered head to toe in _bruises_ , bleeding all over his _rather expensive new sofa, the nice one he had bought for Jacob, so they could cuddle_ , was most certainly NOT what he had expected to walk into.

“God damn it Jacob, I only left for a week!”

Jacob rolled over and opened one eye. “Ned!” he exclaimed as he tried to sit up. “You’re back! C’mere so I can greet you proper.”

“Don’t move, I’m getting the medical supplies.”

“Aw.”

Ned dragged the heavy chest full of bandages, medicine, and other supplies from the bedroom and towards Jacob, only grunting slightly with the effort. Opening the chest and pulling out a healthy amount of disinfectant, Ned asked, “What _happened_ to you? I was only gone for a week!”

“It’s no big deal,” Jacob mumbled into the couch, flinching as Ned cleaned his wounds. “Just a few fights at one of Topping’s clubs.”

Robert Topping. Ned would have a talk with that man. If he had let Jacob into the ring while injured, there would be hell to pay. He’d have to be stealthy, less word get back to Jacob and the assassin think he was patronizing him. But it would be done.

“You’re plotting,” Jacob said into the couch cushions. “You have a plotting look on your face.”

“You can’t even see my face.”

“I can hear your face.”

“That doesn’t even make any sense!”

Jacob laughed. “Are you done yet?”

Ned surveyed his work. Jacob was still far more bruised than he’d like, but he’d done as much as he could for now. “Yes, I’m done—hey!” Ned cried out as Jacob pulled him into a deep hug. With his knees on the floor and Jacob lying on the couch, the position was more than awkward. But, Ned had to admit, the thought of cuddling with Jacob after his long ride was deeply inviting. “Ah, Jacob?”

“Yes?”

“If you want me to join you on that couch, you’ll need to let me go, first.”

Jacob groaned, and very reluctantly, pulled away. Ned glanced about the room, and picked up a blanket from where it was resting on the floor, where it didn’t belong. He stripped off his shoes and jacket, then unfurling the blanket to drape over Jacob, holding one edge in the air to allow him space to join.

Ned clamored his way onto the couch, careful to avoid jostling Jacob, in case he aggravated his wounds. As he settled, letting the blanket slowly fall onto him, Jacob wrapped his arms around him and pulled Ned close, sighing contentedly. Jacob was just the right amount of warm and soft for him to settle into.

Just as he had many times before, Ned noted that Jacob was just the right height for him to tuck his head under Jacob’s chin and curl into the taller man’s shoulder. Jacob hummed as he did just that, Ned snaking his arms around Jacob like the other man had, pulling Jacob into a deeper embrace.  

It wasn’t long before Ned felt Jacob’s breath evened out and grew longer. A quick look verified his suspicion: Jacob had fallen asleep.

Ned considered extracting himself from Jacob and unpacking before tossing the thought aside. He was exhausted, both physically and mentally, and Jacob was a fantastic cuddler. Just the right height for him to curl into. He extended one hand to pull the blanket closer to his chin, covering as much of Jacob as he could without suffocating himself, and settled into what would be an excellent rest of the morning.

They’d have to talk about the source of Jacob’s most recent bought of self-destructive behavior later. For now, Ned squeezed his arms tighter around Jacob and drifted off to sleep.


End file.
